


Shattered Glass

by LouisianaPurrchase



Series: Bad End [13]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Michael plays with his food ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Mind Break, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Touching, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Predator/Prey, Squick, Whump, Yep its exactly what it sounds like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 14:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisianaPurrchase/pseuds/LouisianaPurrchase
Summary: The other Killers want to break Jake, but a Survivor is resilient. They can recover from pain.So Michael takes a different approach.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Jake Park
Series: Bad End [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1408780
Comments: 26
Kudos: 443





	Shattered Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this just starts off right in it. I didn’t have an outline for this one because, much like my entire life, it came as a surprise.

Jake let out another fresh sob as the cock tore into him, ripping back and forth through his abused hole. Each sob only seemed to make Michael Myers go faster, tearing into the defenseless boy, plunging deeper and deeper with each horrible thrust. Come dripped at the edges of Jake’s unprepared hole, pooling under his ass, sweat staining his skin. The knife stabbed into his hand was still there, still making the wound throb and blood trickle down every time Jake tried to thrash or struggle to get away from the raw pain and torture. The girth of the dick was tearing him apart with each and every thrust, and yet, his cries only seemed to spur the Killer on. Possessive hands squeezed Jake’s neck harder, as if attempting to steal the breath from his lungs, cruel love and sick, twisted desire. 

“Stop-“ Jake managed to choke out, “Please, stop-“ and then he devolved back into sobs, wordless cries and sounds of pain, joined by the near rhythmic sound of flesh slapping and Michael’s ever growing huffs and grunts. All the Shape wanted was to see the boy break. The way he writhed on the ground, face turning pale, tears staining his face and the dirt. It was something the Killer had... never felt. It was almost overwhelming. Desire.

But Michael had an idea.

Gradually, the thrusting stopped. Slowed to a stop and the hands on Jake’s neck let up, and Jake gasped for air, sobbing again but softer, only able to focus on the sensation of pain radiating through him. The cock didn’t pull out, but Michael reached up, yanked the knife from Jake’s hand and slammed it into the dirt beside him. The pain renewed, but only for a moment, and Jake made a croaked sounding gasp. The sobs petered off, his body still trembling, eyes still burning, but the fear was back even more. Why had the Killer stopped? A pathetic part of Jake’s mind mewled at the loss of that sensation, of the cock thrusting in and out, and Jake smothered it with the fear and uncertainty.

He didn’t dare ask. He could hardly even speak. So Jake just looked up at the Killer with terrified eyes, and whatever anger burned had been subjugated the first few times this had happened, only a horrified acceptance and a begging denial. But Michael didn’t move. In fact, he remained perfectly still for several moments, before reaching a hand up ever so carefully and putting it on Jake’s side. Jake flinched preemptively, but there was not sharp grip, just gentleness. His skin tingled with horrific yearning for even some gentle contact, and all Jake could do was bite back another sob, waiting for it to be over. 

But it wouldn’t be. Instead, Michael slowly dragged his hand up Jake’s bare chest, lingering in sensitive areas with a ghosting touch that left Jake’s flesh warm in a way that made him terrified of its meaning. And, ever so gradually, Michael started to rock back in forth inside of Jake. Not the brutal, tearing pace of earlier, but something else, tentatively probing. Watching Jake’s face for a wince, keeping the pace almost excruciatingly slow. The length would pull so far back before plunging in, deep, and every time, just barely hitting some place deep inside Jake that would make his back want to arch off the ground. 

Michael’s hand, meanwhile, was making lazy circles on Jake’s upper chest, near his nipples, made firm against the cold air that blew over them. Rough and calloused fingers brushed against the sensitive nubs, ever little motion making Jake flinch again. An almost electric sensation shot through him at every contact, but never enough to make Jake give more than a frightened gasp or choked whimper. The sensations were- almost too much. The cock, slowly pushing in and out of him, almost gentle, and now the exploring touch. Jake wanted to squeeze his eyes shut but something kept them open. Made him catalogue every last moment. 

That’s when he saw the Killer lower his head. The nose of Michael’s mask pressed lightly on Jake’s flesh, slightly cold, rubbing unintentionally against the touch sensitive flesh. For a moment, Jake wondered what was happening, before there was the sound of the latex shifting, the mask coming off and then-

A tongue on his chest. 

Jake’s back did arch this time, and he gasped despite himself, timed with a more forceful thrust of the cock buried deep within him. Michael’s tongue was warm, but the trail it left was cold on the boy’s chest. But none of that seemed to matter when Michael stopped at a nipple, waiting only a moment for his hot breath to wash over it, before taking it into his mouth. Jake gave a surprised cry, and made a weak attempt to push against the Killer, but there was a growing sensation of warmth, desire, and terrifying lust that grew within him with each moment. Michael’s mouth was warm and wet and, his tongue exploratory, teeth gently running over the sensitive nub, like little flashes of pleasure that made Jake give confused sobs yet again. He didn’t want this. This Killer was violating him, with every thrust, and now he was making it feel- good. And Jake was enjoying it. The sobs soft and almost broken, as pleasure warred with denial. 

More thrusts from the cock. In and out, lethargic, each stroke focusing on striking deep within Jake. Each jolt, making the Survivor give another weak cry, coupled with the feelings of his sensitive chest being played with. But, to Michael, this wasn’t enough. Jake was close. But, not enough. Not broken. Not writhing and begging. So Michael lowered his free hand, brought it to Jake’s crotch, let it linger and search. Jake seemed to realize what was happening, and he bucked against the dirt, one sound painfully clear against the near silence: a gasp. Not of fear, but of yearning. Michael troubled his efforts, before Jake could even beg, and then, he had the boy’s cock in his hand. One pump, two, slow, and it was already throbbing, leaking precome from the tip and Jake was nearly a quivering mess. 

“Please-“ Jake begged. He was nearly incoherent. His thoughts were ragged, and he felt little moans escaping his mouth, tears in his eyes and sobs still lingering. What was he begging for? He let out a choked mewl as Myers pumped up and down, almost in time with the thrusts in his ass gradually picking up speed, Michael’s mouth migrating to bite at Jake’s shoulder and neck. It was too much. It was overwhelming. Jake was losing himself, and he was writhing in the dirt now, Michael tugging at his cock and ramming in and out of him and, teeth biting just forceful enough, just enough pain to make Jake blearily realize he was begging again, a heady mantra of, “please, please-“ 

A single thrust was all it took. Perfectly placed, striking Jake deep inside, right as Michael’s mouth hovered above Jake’s own, a slick stroke of Jake’s member. That’s all it took for Jake to utterly break.

“Yes-“ Jake gasped. One word. Enough for Michael to dive down, taking Jake’s mouth with his own, cracking lips and dominating tongue and Jake was crying out now, gasping moans and tears in his eyes as his mind seemed to fall to pieces, “Yes, yes, please, please-“ 

Michael plunged deep into Jake. Laid there for a moment, and Jake writhed in the dirt, twisting and whimpering and begging, and as Michael released a torrent of come into the boy, Jake could only beg for more inbetween his tears. For all that he could, the Killer smiled. 

Michael always loved to play with his food.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more ideas in mind for Myers tbh. He’s my favorite Killer, right next to Ghostface. 
> 
> Got any ideas? Please put them in the comments. I do genuinely enjoy seeing what other people have in mind to happen to Jake


End file.
